I woke up melancholy today.
I felt on the verge of tears all morning and wasn't sure why.
Something felt missing; it was a longing - I was yearning for a connection, and the ache was deep.
When I returned home from walking the dog, I checked my phone and saw the date; April 24. My Aunt Jill’s birthday. Immediately, my tears were uncorked and the feelings all made sense. It happens almost every year, an overwhelming feeling of loss on this day - thirty-two years after her death, and I still miss her.
Someone asked me recently if I was writing a book because my aunt wrote one. No, but she certainly had an impact on how I view life and deal with my health challenges. At a young age, by example, she taught me the power of perspective. Especially as she battled cancer.
If you are listening, Aunt Jill, I ate a bunch of birthday chocolate for you today (the good stuff!) and thought about how lucky I am to have had someone in my life that I loved enough to still miss so much.
That was so lovely, Lindsay. I totally get it. You were so fortunate to have had that strong connection with Aunt Jill and no doubt you carry her in your heart everywhere you go. There's such beauty in the pain.